As It Crawls Across
by gega.cai
Summary: ONE SHOT. John has an unexpected visitor. Post 'Born To Run'


**Title:** As It Crawls Across  
**Author:** gega cai  
**Pairings:** John Connor, Catherine Weaver  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** None  
**Summary:** John has an unexpected visitor.  
**Disclaimer:** Characters and other likely inventive scenarios based on the world created by James Cameron, William Wisher Jr., and Josh Friedman

**Author's Note:** This fic was written for a SCC fic challenge. Prompt was _'Messages From The Past'_

The fic plays with the approach and escape of two terminators, one is obvious, the other is more...astrological? Title is nicked from a lyric in the NIN song "In This Twilight"

**As It Crawls Across**  
by gega cai

John Connor's nose twitched at the sulfric smell of the landscape around him as he took a visual sweep of his sector. Like his mother, John had often tried to imagine what the city would be like after the bombs fell. His imagination had not failed him; John sighed bitterly at the sight.

A part of John understood the want to give in. It was difficult to watch so many in despair. He understood, though. It sneaks into your mind and nestles there, growing as the days go by. Knowing that there would be so much more to endure when the war was over was more than enough to encourage it. The battles against machines and Skynet were not the only battles survivors faced. Life on earth was on hold and John swore under his breath at every reminder of such an existence. Everything seemed numb to the senses. Adrenaline was a much-needed substitute, but it could not make up for what little joy came from a tasteless meal, the touch of gunmetal, the anguish smell of death and destruction, and, what was most unimaginable of all, the colorless world left after the bombs had fallen and the air cleared. It seemed as though the sun had taken offense to what mankind and its creation had done while it hid behind the scarred clouds in protest. John looked on over his city as it laid ahead: miles and miles of ashen concrete rubble, rusted vehicles, and bleached-white bones of so many that had died.

John had few pleasures in life. Meeting his uncle, once and again, was one. Meeting his father was another and that almost made up for all the hardship John had known. Yet, the astonishment of meeting the Reese Boys and arriving in the future was fleeting. The reality of the future settled in quickly.

It was human nature to want to escape, even if it were just a moment. John allowed himself these moments in his daily patrol. Day break, as it began while he watched over the sector now, was the most rewarding time of the day to get a small glimpse of what freedom could offer. He held his breath as the sun began to rise on the horizon beyond the city limits. Dawn approached, and the last of what might have been stars faded as the darkness of night began to lift. He swallowed hard as the sky grew deep, rich blue. It was a startling contrast against the grey-toned earth below. John's blue hour was interrupted as a distinct slithering sound caught his attention.

John slowly lowered on his belly, careful not to make a sound, and scanned the sector from above his rifle's scope. Another slithering sound came from his left and his eyes quickly darted to its direction. He gently craned his head down to rest on his aimed rifle; his eye lined up with the scope. The static, digital XY filter over his scope-view gave him distance and temperature readings as he waited for the top of _something's_ head to peek above the jutted walls. Instead, another slithering sound came up to his immediate left. It had not given him anytime to react or process how the damn thing had snuck up on him so quickly. John could feel his heart beat in his throat as he saw movement in his peripheral vision. With caution, he pulled his left shoulder back, and leaned on his right elbow to look back at the infiltrator that had snuck up on him.

A wave of relief hit John and he exhaled hard at the unbelievable sight of a liquid metal puddle waiting patiently on an adjacent wall. Closing his eyes in gratitude, he spoke in a broken whisper to it, "You're breaking protocol. I can't be seen with you like this."

John waited for a response. The puddle began to ripple and a crude, oval shape formed. A flicker, some kind of liquid spasm gave the impression of a face being pushed through and in a blink, the facial features were delicate and life-like except for its reflective metal skin. The face was recognizable to John Connor as Catherine Weaver. John knew Catherine Weaver was dead and in her place was this thing: a time traveling killer with its own agenda for Skynet and mankind. John took offense at the life-like, yet lifeless eyes of the T-1001 blinking back at him: a mocked human gesture of regard for their situation.

"What is it?" John asked.

"It seems as though our past is catching up with us, John Connor..." it began.

"You found something? Is it Cameron?"

The metal face studied John before it answered, "No. John Henry is still missing. What I found may only interest you and your human resistance. It appears Mr. Ellison and Sarah Connor kept themselves busy after we went through time. They were able to leave cryptic messages in Skynet's systems. She addressed several of them to you."

John hid his true reaction to the news in fear of what it might have meant to the infiltrator. He was still unclear about its motives. Inside, his heart had leapt and he tried hard to ignore his mind as it flashed his last memory of her stepping back from him, promising him they'd stop it somehow, even across time.

An undistinguished arm extended from the metal pool on the wall. The stump of the arm formed into a closed fist and opened, palm up, to show a diskette rise from the liquid metal center of the open hand.

John leaned forward and extended his hand, but stopped before taking the diskette. The face of Catherine Weaver tilted and a weak smirk formed in reaction to John's gesture. Quickly, the open hand curled closed and the shape of the hand disfigured as it lost its shape and re-figured into another hand, palm down, with the diskette floating between its newly formed fingers. It casually lowered the diskette in John's extended hand before quickly pooling back to its main puddle.

"I assure you, Sarah Connor's message has little consequence to finding John Henry or what Skynet would consider a problem. I got what I needed from their messages to the Resistance. Take it."

"That's why we will win: Skynet never had a clue. Whatever she had to say will have something to do with this war ending," John explained as he pocketed the diskette.

"Perhaps you're right. Skynet is on the move and reinforcements are headed south due to a recent breakout. It would be best if LA was deserted by the end of the week. Until we meet again," it nodded goodbye.

John watched as the face smoothed away and the liquid metal took on the surface features of the wall, becoming invisible in front of his eyes. Only the outline of the T-1001 gave away its descent from his position, taking with it the pleasure of the morning's dawn. John glanced over his sector and saw that it was still and lifeless again. The morning's twilight was nearly gone as the sun began to peak on the horizon. John sneered at the approaching daylight and the thought of the T-1001 freely watching his mother's messages meant only for him. He dipped his fingers into his jacket's pocket and felt the diskette there. He was sure her message was more valuable than the metal had assumed. The world was looking a bit more promising today than it had been in a very long time, John thought.


End file.
